


Eros

by almondjoyz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hogwarts, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-07
Updated: 2006-11-07
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondjoyz/pseuds/almondjoyz
Summary: The war is over; the battle won.  They survived and so has their love. Now, it’s time to begin another journey: discovering each other.





	Eros

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: This story kind of works backwards...don't read it fast, or you may miss critical shifts.   


* * *

Her eyes fluttered open from her deep sleep. A contented sleep, one she hadn’t had in almost a year. She felt refreshed, happy even. As her senses awakened, along with the rest of her, Hermione noticed the walls of the room were not hers. Looking down at the bed, the blankets were a garish orange. Her heart beat faster in panic before she remembered why she was where she was. A smile played across her lips as she felt the heaviness of the arm that was around her waist, warm, strong and loving.  
  
Ron.  
  
She was here, in bed, with Ron.  
  
They won.  
  
Harry won.  
  
They were alive. Some had bumps and bruises. Some had broken limbs. But they were alive all the same.  
  
They had taken Harry to hospital and Healers placed him under sedation, the mental wall he had constructed over the years having finally crumbled with the defeat of Voldemort. Once Harry had cast the final curse and Voldemort lay broken and dead on the grass, Harry, for lack of a better word, lost it. He had begun shouting at everyone, even Ginny, scaring the strongest of men in the Order of the Phoenix. He kicked the lifeless body of Voldemort until Remus Lupin dragged him away kicking and screaming before falling in a heap on the bloody grass outside the Hogwarts greenhouses. As Ron and Lupin had helped walk Harry to the gates of the school, Hermione couldn’t help but notice that the eyes of those around her had filled with tears, not of joy and jubilation, but of worry, concern and love for the young man in front of them. Ron had bravely tried to hold in the tears but the look on his face betrayed his tough exterior.  
  
Slowly, those around her had begun following the three bedraggled men to Apparate to St. Mungo’s. Some assisted those that needed help walking while others levitated the bodies of those who made the ultimate sacrifice, the true heroes of The Second War. Aurors retrieved the bodies of Voldemort, Snape and Lucius Malfoy, taking them back to the Ministry before heading to the morgue. The smell of burnt flesh and blood flooded her nostrils, causing her to vomit as the bodies were solemnly carried passed her.  
  
A hand had gently touched her shoulder and pulled her into a warm embrace, bringing forth sobs from deep within her.  
  
“Shh now, Hermione. It’s over.” Mrs. Weasley’s soothing voice floated over her and had the desired effect. She could always do this, the woman who held her, making Hermione wonder, not for the first time, whether Molly Weasley was an Empath or something like that. “Come on now. Harry needs you. Ron needs you.” With those words, she allowed the older woman to lead her away.  
  
~*~  
  
A soft moan and a squeeze from Ron brought Hermione’s thoughts back to the present. She smiled again and quietly turned to her side, looking at the face of the man she loved. The man who was now her lover. The one who would always hold her heart. A sharp twinge of pain in her groin made her hiss, bringing back memories of her very pleasant activities the night before.  
  
 _“Are you ready?” he asked, hovering over her, his arms shaking as he held himself above her. His face was a model of control as he looked at her with the azure eyes that she learned to trust so very long ago.  
  
“Ron,” she gasped, still recovering from the aftershocks of the pleasure Ron’s mouth and hands had given her. “Yes…oh yes.”  
  
She felt the tip of his swollen penis edge its way into her body and she tensed slightly at the intrusion. With a grunt, he pushed all the way into her, bringing forth pain and pleasure as he filled her. A small tear fell onto her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see Ron’s eyes brimming with tears. She reached up and gently wiped the tears away with her thumb.  
  
”I’m sorry...I don’t like hurting you,” he sobbed. She’d never seen him so vulnerable, so emotional. It only made her love him more.  
  
“It’s okay, Ron. It doesn’t matter. Everything else is wonderful.” Hermione smiled up at him and began moving her hips, telling him without words how much she wanted this. The friction between them made her tingle, sending new waves of pleasure through her body.  
  
“Hermione! Bloody hell!” Ron began moving faster and faster against her as he held her tightly to him, whispering endearments into her ears. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer and eliciting more groans from his lips. “I…can’t…stop…uh!” Ron slammed his hips one last time and she felt him fill her up, a warm, satisfied feeling forming in her body. This is what they had fought so hard for. Love._  
  
In his sleep, Ron nuzzled her neck, bringing forth an overwhelming sense of love and safety, the same feeling she wanted for Harry and Ginny.  
  
From the moment she had arrived at the hospital, Ginny sat quietly at Harry’s bedside as he slept, the Dreamless Sleeping Draughts having done their job well. She kept hold of his hand and had refused to leave him, despite her mother’s protests that she get something to eat in the tearoom. Hermione had never seen Ginny look so lost, except for the day that she, Ron and Harry had left. Not many people knew the depth of feeling that Harry and Ginny felt for each other; only Hermione and Ron were privy to that information. Harry had denied that part of his feelings while they were searching and fighting, and it wasn’t until the last battle, when Ginny and the rest of the Order had joined them at Hogwarts, that he had allowed himself to feel again. As it turned out, Ginny’s presence was what allowed Harry to defeat Voldemort. He couldn’t let the person he loved most live in a world where Voldemort was king.  
  
After several hours of watching Harry sleep and having answered questions from Ministry officials and the press, Hermione needed to get away. She’d been up for nearly a day and a half and hadn’t showered in a longer amount of time. There was dried mud in her matted hair and her clothes were tattered and bloody. Stumbling out the door of Harry’s room, she had walked into Ron’s chest and had wrapped his arms around her, instinctively knowing exactly what she needed.  
  
“Let’s get out of here, okay?” She had nodded wearily. “Grimmauld Place is closer.” Ron led her over to the nearest fireplace and they Floo’d to the sitting room of Harry’s house, which had been their headquarters while they searched for the Horcruxes. Steadying herself as she stepped onto the floor of the sitting room, she had smiled at him in thanks. She was so very tired and had allowed Ron to ready the shower while she went to her room to undress and gather her things. As she entered the steamy bathroom, Ron had left after kissing her lightly on the cheek.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione instinctively touched her cheek, remembering the night before. Before they had come together. Before she had experienced Ron.  
  
 _“I love you, Hermione,” Ron softly said as he lay stretched out beside her on his bed, their nude bodies like a white-hot flame. She felt alive. More alive than ever, in fact.  
  
“I love you too, Ron. And I want this,” she whispered. Her mouth was covered by his and their mouths began teasing each other, driving the other wild and stirring up feelings that normal eighteen year olds had no business feeling.  
  
Ron pulled her to him, pressing her naked flesh against his, making her feel his desire. Hermione gasped at the strength of his erection, excited at what they were about to do and how it would feel. She was never an impulsive person, never without a plan. But this, this was what she had waited for since she knew Ron was the one. It didn’t matter that they’d just been to hell and back. It didn’t matter that a mere half hour ago she was covered in sweat and mud. All that mattered to her was that Ron was touching her. Touching her breasts. Touching her thighs and her most intimate places with his strong, beautiful fingers. And he was evoking feelings she never thought were possible.  
  
“Wh..what…Ron?” she gasped as Ron slid down her body to rest his chest between her hot, wet thighs. His hands kneaded her inner thighs and began working their way in toward her centre. Oh God! He was going to do THAT!  
  
“I want you, Hermione. Really, I do.” There was a ‘but’ coming, she just knew it. “But I want you to feel as beautiful as I know you are.” At those words, Ron’s face disappeared between her thighs and his mouth began to work its own brand of magic on her sex. His tongue flicked her swollen clit and pulled it lightly into his mouth, eliciting a squeal from her lips. He did it again. And again. Hermione began writhing underneath him, savouring each and every sensation. And she wanted more.  
  
As if he read her mind, Ron gently placed one finger, and then another inside her; she knew she was wet, but the feel of him so easily sliding into her told her she was dripping for him. She couldn’t think anymore; didn’t want to. She just felt. She felt the sliding motion of his fingers slowly moving in and out of her. It was torture, really, how slowly he moved. She felt her inner walls tremble lightly at first, and then building toward the crescendo she knew would come. She felt his fingers slide out and missed the sensation only for a moment as his tongue replaced his fingers.  
  
“Oh!” she shouted into the nearly empty room. “Ron! More!” He continued lapping up her juices and darted in and out of her with his tongue; his nimble fingers went to work on her clit, rubbing it in a circular motion, a movement she eagerly matched. Lifting her hips, Hermione came hard and fast while screaming out at last._  
  
She smelled her own scent and felt wetness between her legs again with that memory. She needed to stop doing that, she told herself, but knowing she’d never really want to stop thinking about Ron making love to her. She knew that there would never be another, not ever.  
  
~*~  
  
After she had showered earlier, she’d put on her simple pyjamas and had begun to make her way toward the kitchen.  
  
“Done already?” Ron leaned against the corner of his door, damp and smelling heavenly from his own shower. “I thought you’d be in there longer.”  
  
“Was I really that dirty?”  
  
“Yeah. A right mess.” He had stepped aside and motioned for her to enter his room. “I have food.”  
  
“You really know the way to a girl’s heart, Weasley. I think that’s why I love you so much.” They both had laughed at that. Her smile faded as she remembered that it was the first time she’d said that to him for over three days. She did love him, and he loved her. They both had for so long.  
  
They had entered his room and sat on the bed. “ _Accio tray!_ ” A covered tray flew over to them and revealed a large bowl of ice cream: chocolate, strawberry, chocolate chip cookie dough and cappuccino. Her favourite flavours.  
  
“Ron…” He had stopped her with a kiss before she could finish. All too soon, he pulled away with a huge grin on his face.  
  
“I think a celebration is in order, yeah?” He dipped a finger into the cappuccino ice cream and brought it to her lips and she opened her mouth.  
  
“Mmmmm….oh God that tastes so GOOD!” It had been ages since she’d had anything as simple as ice cream. And there it was. In Ron’s room.  
  
They had ended up feeding each other the ice cream, finger-full by finger-full until it was a mess of melted, mixed goodness. The feeding had changed somewhere in the middle from just providing nourishment to a more teasing, playful, erotic experience that neither of them had missed.  
  
~*~  
  
Her stomach rumbled and she giggled to herself. The sun was beginning to rise and she wanted to get back to the hospital to check on Harry and convince Ginny to get some decent sleep. Ron groaned and she knew he was waking up, but this groan wasn’t a waking up groan; it was a sexy groan. _It is rather early,_ she told herself, _and Harry’s not going anywhere...._  
  
Ron moaned as he kissed her again, making Hermione taste the melted ice cream on his lips. He was delicious. In every way.  
  
“Hermione…” he uttered huskily. Her eyes were drawn to his lips. Those perfect, plump lips that drove her to distraction. She watched him swallow and reached for him, tugging his shirt over his head before launching herself into his waiting arms.  
  
They fell back upon the duvet, his ugly Chudley Canons duvet that screamed with bad taste. But she didn’t spend another seconds’ thought on it as Ron’s hands began to wander underneath her tank top and began kneading her breasts, causing her nipples to form into rock-hard nubs. In a flash, her shirt was gone, she had divested Ron of his boxer shorts and his big hands were tugging at her pyjama bottoms.  
  
When they were both finally, gloriously, wonderfully naked, Ron kissed her lips softly, teasing them apart with soft touches from his tongue. Somehow, they found their way under the blankets and the garish duvet was covering her now, along with Ron’s body. His thick, hard penis rubbed against her leg as they began to kiss again. Without thinking, her hand drifted down in between them and took hold of him, bringing forth a hiss from his lips as she rubbed, tugged and pulled at him.  
  
“Hey! I’m not sure…oh hell!” Ron came into her hand; she felt powerful and more importantly, womanly and sexy. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He rolled to his side beside her on the bed.  
  
“Well, this way, you’ll be able to last longer,” she said, surprising both of them with her candour.  
  
“What?”  
  
Hermione cleared her throat. “I want you to make love to me, Ron.” There. She said it. She waited. Vulnerable.  
  
“I love you, Hermione.”  
  
A large, rough hand drifted between her legs, searching for entrance. “Morning,” he whispered into her neck. He nibbled her neck, making her giggle like a little girl. “What have you been thinking about?”  



End file.
